


Pumpkin Spice

by quartetship



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Polyamory, Spitroasting, This fic is a ride man, Ugly Sweaters, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:19:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: "Sweaters?" he asked. "Really ugly sweaters..."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avoidingavoidance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/gifts).



> So my beloved Charlie asked me to write them some steamy, snuggly EJM and... I threw in pumpkins and sweaters for fun. SHRUG EMOJI, idk guys, but here's 6k+ of ugly sweaters, sneaky boyfriends and sleepy cuddles. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> \--

More often than he liked to admit, Jean Kirschtein found himself surprised by things that really ought to have been apparent.

This was especially true when it came to his love life. Being in a polyamorous relationship was only the beginning of the interesting details of his personal life. He had two wonderful boyfriends, who had for years been his very  _ best _ friends, and by the time they had moved in together, he figured he knew them both fairly well. 

Still, something always managed to take him by surprise, and that something was usually glaringly obvious, in hindsight.

Jean knew Marco was a teacher. He understood the concept well enough to know that Marco would always have papers to grade, tests to score, and marks to enter into his grade book. But until he actually  _ cohabited _ with him and Eren, he had no idea how stressful it could all be, or why words like ‘midterm’ could leave Marco blank staring into oblivion with fear. 

Suffice it to say, Jean was unprepared for the first full academic semester, living alongside Marco, even with Eren there to provide emotional support. The three of them had rented a house together that summer, large enough for all of them, and all the stuff they brought along. Weeks of Marco at home during all hours meant christening every surface of every room with sex, and always having a cuddle buddy for impromptu movie marathons or a shotgun rider for midnight fast food trips. Jean had never dreamed that living with his partners could be so much  _ fun.  _ Everything was absolutely perfect until late August, when Marco began to stay up later and rise earlier. By early October, it was as if he scarcely lived with them at all. 

At first, Jean worried. After all, the three of them had been an item for going on two years, that winter. Never had Eren been heard to complain about Marco being distant or strange, even during his peak seasons of business. So why then was he pulling away with Jean now in the mix, actually living and working alongside them? Was  _ Jean _ the problem? 

Eren was quick to assure him that he was not. 

Regaling him with stories of their earliest days as a couple, Eren told Jean tales of Marco sleeping at work, sleeping in his car, sleeping on the piles of papers in front of him - sleeping  _ anywhere other than _ beside Eren. It wasn't personal; Eren had learned as much over time, watching with a heavy heart as Marco had broken down in his arms, full of apologies fueled by a lack of sleep and sanity. Still, taking the bad with the good had been hard for him, and only by discovering ways to reconnect with his boyfriend and help him unwind from the stress had Eren been able to keep himself together enough to keep their relationship on stable ground. 

Jean wondered what those tricks were that Eren knew. He bit his tongue every time he considered asking, outright. Maybe, as the newest face in their number, he hadn't earned the right to know, just yet. Still, he hoped Eren would share his secrets sooner rather than later. 

Jean got his wish one brisk, autumn afternoon. A football game buzzed quietly on television in the background, no longer of interest to anyone. Marco sat on the floor amidst a miniature city built of papers, stacked high all around him, while Eren and Jean lounged on the couch, feet overlapping in a lazy attempt at cuddling. Eren glanced over at Marco - so completely lost in his concentration that he'd begun mumbling to himself - then back at Jean, with a dissatisfied huff.

“You’ll have to excuse our boyfriend,” he sighed dramatically, making no attempt at keeping his voice down. He eyed Marco to see if he had noticed being mentioned; when it was obvious that he hadn't, Eren returned his attention fully to Jean. “He gets like this. This time, every year. Like clockwork.”

Jean nodded, watching Marco work. He'd never seen him so busy, but then, he'd never  _ lived _ with the guy before that year. “So can we expect to make contact with him any time in the near future, or do we have to wait ‘til the spring thaw?”

“He's mostly gone,” Eren answered. He looked at Jean with a growing, mischievous grin. “But only  _ mostly.  _ I have a few tricks for getting the treats, if you know what I mean.” He waggled his eyebrows. Jean rolled his eyes. 

“Why are you like this?” He groaned. Eren snorted, rolling without grace in Jean’s direction to tackle him into something like a hug. He bumped his nose clumsily against Jean’s.

“You love it, and you know you do.”

“I'm living with idiots.” Jean sighed, looking between Eren clinging to his shoulders and Marco, remarkably absent and rather artfully disheveled amidst a stack of nearby papers. Jean  _ adored _ them. His heart was so full his chest could barely hold it. “But yes, I love you. Both.”

Eren smiled wider, nosed against Jean’s chin and jaw and finally pressed a kiss there, humming happily. He pulled himself up properly into Jean’s lap, tilting his head to gesture toward the hall that lead to the bedroom before moving to his feet again, but when Jean wordlessly followed, it wasn't the room at the end of the hall that Eren lead him toward. It was the attic entrance.

Pulling down the foldaway staircase, Eren pointed upward, flipping on the upstairs light.

“C’mon. Let's talk battle strategy.”

\--

If Jean was unsure about the purpose of their attic adventure, his confusion didn't last long. Eren immediately buried himself in a shabby, questionably splintered cedar chest, digging through the contents as if he were searching for treasure. When he sat back on his heels and lifted his arms above his head, his voice made it seem as though he'd found just that.

“Ahh, found ‘em!” He said, waving his hands in Jean’s direction. Each was clenched around a wad of fabric, that Eren promptly tossed in Jean’s direction. “Check it out, babe. Marco’s secret stash.”

“Sweaters?” Jean asked, picking one up that had landed at his feet on the attic’s plywood floor. It was - or rather  _ had _ been, in some distant, past life - a black, cable knit sweater, covered in the most outlandish and gaudy fall leaf appliqué Jean had ever seen in his life, and that included every heinous sweater his mother had ever worn. He didn't even have to pluck the next sweater from the floor to see that it was much the same. He swallowed, almost speechless. “Really ugly sweaters.”

“You seem unimpressed.” Eren snorted, pulling a seemingly endless pile of homely sweaters and vests from the chest. When he was satisfied with his harvest, he closed the chest, turned, and sat on it, grinning at Jean with  _ much _ amusement. Jean shook his head, poking the entirety of his thumb and first finger through a gaping hole in the sweater he still held in his hands. 

“Well they're not just hideous, they're like… falling apart. How do these even keep him warm?”

“One, they're not  _ for _ keeping warm.” Eren began, pulling another, far more threadbare jumper from the floor to hold up, as a demonstration. “Two, they're never on for very long, so the ugliness doesn't really matter. It's the  _ theme _ that counts. And three, they're his sweaters, but he's never the one wearing them. Though he  _ is _ usually the one that ends up ripping holes in ‘em.” Eren sat back, arms and legs crossed, smug. After a beat of silence, the meaning of his words settled over Jean. 

“Oh.” Jean said quietly, looking down at the hideous knit creation in his hands, and realizing Marco had probably fucked Eren in it on at least one occasion. The mental image was a startlingly appealing one; Jean shuddered, looking back at Eren.  _ “Oh.” _

Nodding, Eren motioned to the bounty of handmade horrors on the floor between them. “Pick your favorite, babe. I personally like this guy.” He held up a mustard yellow sweater with a strangely sewn scarecrow on the front. A scarecrow with one large, wiggly eye, and another that had all but fallen off, hanging by a single thread, alone. Jean wrinkled his nose in terror. 

“His  _ eye _ is falling off.”  

“He's  _ seen _ some shit, okay?” Eren chirped.

Jean shook his head, weighing his other, ugly options. “Yeah. I think I'll pass.”

\--

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” 

It had taken Jean only a few seconds to accept Eren’s plan of attack to regain Marco's attention, and only a few minutes for him to decide on which sweater to wear into battle. What took much longer was feeling okay with himself, stepping so boldly into something that had been a longstanding tradition between the two of them. He felt out of place, worried they might see him that way too, and hiding it on his face was apparently not working. When he asked Eren for reassurance, Eren seemed confused as to why he might need it, but it was obvious that he could tell Jean felt uncomfortable. 

“It was my idea, baby - why wouldn't I be okay with it?” He adjusted Jean’s sweater - a light orange number with only a few small holes and a relatively muted pumpkin sewn onto the front - pulling the hem down to cover the snug, black boxer briefs Jean wore beneath it. It was true, the entire thing  _ had _ been Eren's idea, right down to the two of them wearing only their underwear beneath the oversized sweaters. Still, Jean worried that he might be overstepping some unspoken boundary. He shifted from one side to the next, fingers toying with the torn sleeve cuff hem. 

“I just don't want to intrude. This was you guys’ thing and… I don't wanna mess that up.”

Immediately, Eren shook his head, stepping into Jean's space to take his hands. “Jean,  _ baby _ , no. No, no, that's not -  _ listen.  _ Yeah, it  _ was _ mine and Marco's thing, but so was everything, before you got here. We made the decision to change that. We wanted you here with us. We wanna make everything about the  _ three _ of us now, and that includes this.” He reached up to cup Jean's jaw in his hand, thumbing gently at his ear as he smiled, sweet yet stubborn. “You look cute as fuck, and Marco's gonna say the exact same thing. Okay?”

Jean brightened, biting his lip as he allowed himself to think of Marco’s reaction. “You think?”

“I mean, if he can remember how to use words at all, yeah.” Eren grinned. He pulled Jean forward to kiss him, snickering against his lips. When he pulled away at last, the tenderness in his eyes was replaced with his usual mischief. “Now let's go get ‘em.”

\--

Eren's ‘battle strategy’ was a remarkably simple one. While he waited in the wings - the short section of the hallway that fell beyond the range of sight, from the living room - Jean would saunter out first in his sweater, just to rattle Marco that much more than if Eren was leading the parade. He was used to seeing Eren prance around in his winter wear, after all. Seeing Jean flit by in one without warning was sure to catch his eye; Eren was banking on it. 

Giving Jean one last kiss for encouragement, he flattened himself against the wall of the hallway, clearing his throat loudly. Much to Jean's chagrin, Marco didn't look up at the sound - he didn't even acknowledge Jean entering the room. So Jean took matters into his own hands, glancing back at Eren knowingly as he did. 

“Hey Marco?” He started, keeping his voice as cool as possible. Marco replied without looking away from his work. 

“Yes, love?”

“Could you...  _ help me _ with something?”

“Of course sweetheart, what do you--” 

Marco went silent without finishing his sentence, his eyes wide at the sight of Jean in front of him. He raked his gaze over Jean, looking at him from head to bare foot, mouth falling open slightly. It was as if Jean was wearing the raciest lingerie imaginable, wilting sensually against the wall, instead of simply leaning against it in an ancient pumpkin sweater. Jean swallowed a laugh. 

When Eren was right, he was bang-on  _ right.  _

He tugged at the bottom hem of the massive shirt, raising it up just a bit so that Marco could see the very short shorts he was wearing beneath it. “Found this upstairs. Figured I'd try it on and see what you thought.”

“Looks like  _ thinking _ isn't happening right now.” Eren smirked, coming up behind Jean, hovering beside him with a hand on his shoulder. Marco gave him a brief version of the looking over that he'd given Jean, then squinted at him, suspicious. 

“This was  _ your _ idea, wasn't it?”

Eren shrugged, biting his lip. “Why? You gonna spank me for it?”

“Later.” Marco said shortly, and neither Eren nor Jean could control the shiver that the word sent down their spines. He was typically their towering teddy bear, but when Marco’s buttons were pushed, he could be deliciously demanding - and no one knew how to push those buttons quite like the two of them.

Marco looked back to Jean, waving him out, forgetting about the papers stacked around him entirely. “For now, Jean… Come here and let me see you better.”

Doing as he was told, Jean stepped fully into the room. His bottom lip between his teeth, he fiddled with the hem of the shirt a bit more, making sure to turn slowly, to give Marco a solid look at every part of him. Playing up the way the sweater scarcely covered the slight curves of his ass, Jean rolled his hips as he spun in place, stepping in circles with the grace of a self-assured cat. He wasn't much of a show off, but seeing Marco eye him like a man dying of thirst fueled a seldom stoked flame in Jean. He made his best effort at performing, only hoping Eren could see it too, from where he stood lingering against the wall. 

Jean’s preening did not go unappreciated; Marco reached for him, pulling him forward by his hips once he was finally in reach. 

“You're so damn cute.”

“You think so?” Jean asked, shifting his weight from side to side, as deliberately coy and flirtatious as he knew how to be. Marco chewed his lip, shooting Eren a wicked glance before kneeling fully in front of Jean, setting his heart to racing. 

“Lemme show you.”

Jean nodded, making sure Marco knew  _ exactly _ how willing a participant he was in whatever he might be planning. He was fairly certain he knew, as Marco pressed chaste kisses all along the waistband of his underwear, teasing, slow and sweet. Jean’s cock responded to the indirect attention, stiffening behind the thin fabric and tenting the tight shorts rather impressively. As Marco mouthed over the bulge, Jean swallowed a whine, bringing fingers up to his mouth to bite down on. But just as he was certain Marco's fingers were second from slipping into his boxer briefs to free him from their confines, he felt them wrap around the backs of his thighs instead, then take hold of him firmly as Marco stood, sweeping Jean cleanly off his feet and over Marco’s shoulder. 

Carrying him that way, Marco gave Jean's ass a quick slap on his way to their bedroom, stopping in the hallway to grab Eren and pull him in for a hungry kiss. Grinding into Marco’s shoulder, his breath still caught in his throat from the surprise of being lifted into the air without warning, Jean gave a pitiful whine at the sight of his boyfriends kissing, a usually sexy scene that was pure torture as he was held just out of reach of both of their lips. 

Apparently, Marco took pity on him, finishing the short walk to the bedroom as Eren trailed after them both, smirking like a victor before they'd even gotten started. Jean would have rolled his eyes at him on any other day, but he was too dazed from being manhandled to do much more than look hazily back toward him as they walked. Eren seemed more than fine with that.

Marco deposited Jean onto the bed, the surprise of falling wrenching an embarrassing squeak from him. Marco grinned at the sound, taking hold of Jean's feet. “See?  _ Adorable.” _

Jean was not quite convinced. Still pouting from being dropped like a load of dirty laundry, he tugged his feet away from Marco, only to have them held fast in place. Marco wasn't hurting him, but his grip on Jean’s ankles threatened to, if he pulled too hard. Relenting, Jean let himself be held by the feet, captured by Marco with no clue of his intentions. Marco didn't leave him wondering for long, though. Kissing the bottom of each foot, he made his way up and over the backs of them, up Jean’s ankles and calves and up to his knees, kissing over each as he went, crawling onto and up the length of the bed to reach him better, and peppering Jean with sweet words as he moved.

“Beautiful. Wonderful. Gorgeous. Incredible.” Marco said every word between kisses, a stuttered series of praises to punctuate the way he worshipped the skin he dragged his lips across. Jean had never been fond of his legs, but Marco made every inch of him feel special, remarkable,  _ desirable.  _ When he reached Jean's thighs he parted them gently, hands kneading the soft flesh there as he left yet more kisses on each. Then he traced teeth up one side and down the other, before sinking them into heated skin, leaving a hellacious looking bruise immediately. He growled as Jean whined, hips canting forward at the sting of being bitten. _ “Mine.” _

Jean might have spoken up, but his voice was caught in his throat, seeing Marco looking at him with such reverence. He knew Eren would say what he couldn't just then, as he felt him crawling up the bed to rest behind him, hands working their way over Jean’s shoulders and down his chest as his lips landed wet and parted on Jean’s neck. Before either of them could so much as utter a single syllable though, Marco corrected himself, reaching up to squeeze one of Eren's wandering hands, his eyes still fixed on Jean as he spoke. _ “Ours.”  _

_ “Yours,” _ Jean agreed, breathless, letting his legs fall open obscenely. Marco hooked fingers in the waistband of his shorts and all but tore them from his waist, and Jean couldn't be sure if the gasp he heard was his own or Eren's. Either way, it only seemed to spur Marco on, as he knelt low and took Jean deep into his mouth with a single motion. 

The contrast of the cool air against his cock and the sudden heat of Marco's mouth was shocking, and this time, Jean was  _ definitely _ the culprit behind the broken moan that split the silence. Marco was so eager, so hungry for him; Jean had rarely seen him so insistent, but the scene playing out around him was dizzying and addictive. 

He  _ had _ to do this again sometime. 

Letting his head fall back against Eren’s chest with a wanton whimper, Jean cupped fingers around the back of Eren's neck, sliding through soft hair as his other hand did the same to Marco, urging him on. Jean blinked up at Eren, who was looking down at him smugly. 

“This was the best idea you've ever h-had,” Jean murmured, stuttering slightly as he felt the head of his cock slide into the tight heat of Marco's willing throat. Eren grinned, leaning down to kiss him. 

“Maybe not the best  _ ever,” _ he teased, “But I told you he'd like it. Big guy’s got A Thing for ugly seasonal attire.” Eren slid his hand down Jean's chest, fingers working their way under the loosely hanging neckline of the sweater to find a sensitive nipple, gently pinching and rolling the hardened nub between them. Jean groaned at the feeling, the sensations already so much at once between the attention of both boyfriends. Eren chuckled, hand finding its way across his chest to give the other nipple the same treatment. “I dare say  _ you're _ having a good time, too.” 

Jean intended to say something in agreement, but his words were stolen from him before he managed to speak them. Eren bit down hard on his exposed shoulder, just as Marco swallowed around the entire length of his cock, letting him linger in the insanely good feeling longer than his brain was truly ready for before pulling off of him with a wet and noisy gasp. Sitting back on his heels, Marco dragged an arm hastily across his beautifully reddened lips, and then made quick work of ridding himself of his shirt. Jean swallowed, speechless, watching him undress, feeling Eren shift behind him. Marco stood to take his pants off, hands slowing slightly as he looked to Eren for a game plan. 

“I'm assuming you have  _ thoughts _ on how you'd like this to proceed,” he said, raising his eyebrow playfully as he waited for Eren's reply. He was met with mischievous laughter, as Eren pulled Jean backward to hold him, reaching down to wrap fingers around his cock, still slick with Marco’s spit. 

“Well you know me, baby. I always have a plan,” Eren teased. “Getting your attention was step one. Seemed to go fairly well. As for step two… I was thinking of making a mess out of our boy here.” He pumped Jean’s dick, snickering devilishly when Jean inhaled sharply, tensing in his arms. Marco watched, unzipping his pants and freeing a bulge of his own. 

“S’at so?” He asked, lazily stroking his clothed cock. “And how did you plan on doing that, exactly?”

Eren pressed a kiss to the bruised skin he had just bitten on Jean’s neck, no doubt making eye contact with Marco the whole time. He sat forward, pulling Jean upright with him as he spoke. “How about  _ roast _ tonight?” 

Jean trembled in Eren’s arms. He knew damned well Eren wasn't talking about food. Something as filthy and slow as spitroasting was a rare treat for the three of them, with differing work schedules that mandated quickies and half-assed blow jobs, most of the time. And getting to be the middle man? It was the kind of thing Jean's wettest dreams were made of, and both of his boyfriends knew it. 

Then it dawned on him. Eren's plan had never been solely about regaining Marco's attention. It was also about putting Jean at center stage between them, where he so often feared being, but where he wanted so much to be.

Marco grinned like the devil himself when Jean's hips rocked forward into the empty air at the mere mention of taking both of them at once. He stepped forward a bit, reaching out to take hold of Jean's face, gently cupping his chin. His voice was soft and low as he spoke. “That sound alright with you, sweetheart? You wanna be a mess for us?” 

With Marco holding his face and Eren clutching him from behind, Jean could do little more than nod, shivering as he replied. “Please.  _ Wreck me.” _

He didn't have to tell either of them twice. Marco let go of him, stepping back to let his pants fall fully to the ground. He pulled out the drawer of their bedside table, tossing a bottle in Eren's direction. “Get him ready,” he said, swaying on his feet as he pulled his boxers down at last. His cock sprang free, thick and hard and absolutely  _ mouthwatering _ in front of Jean as the tip glistened with precome. Jean made a show of licking his lips. 

It didn't go unnoticed. 

“Oh don't worry, sweetheart,” Marco crooned, taking hold of his length as he moved to kneel on the bed in front of Jean. “You're gonna get a taste. You're not gonna be the only one who gets their cock sucked tonight.”

He certainly wouldn't be. Before Eren could make a move behind him, Jean was on all fours, mouth open and eyes heavy with lust as he looked up at Marco through his lashes. Marco bit back a groan, slapping his dick wetly against Jean’s waiting tongue and taut cheek before finally sliding past his lips and twisting fingers in his hair. 

Behind him, Jean was vaguely aware of Eren shuffling around, the sound of the bottle of lubricant snapping open as he did, but he was far too lost in the salty tang and the weight of Marco's leaking cock on his tongue to give it much thought. That is, until he felt a lube-slicked finger slide teasingly down the cleft of his ass. Jean moaned around his mouthful, louder still when Eren ghosted his free hand up his back, reassuringly. 

“Don't worry, beautiful. Gonna take good care of you. Stretch you open so good you'll be begging for more. Get you all ready for Marco's cock.” Eren babbled filthy sweetness to him, caressing the sensitive skin of his back and thighs, covered in tiny chill bumps from anticipation. He pressed kisses to one side of Jean's ass, kneading the flesh of the other like a frantic teenager. Jean would never get over just how enamored his boyfriends were with his body. Under their hands, he always felt like something to be treasured - even if he couldn't say so, with his mouth stuffed full of cock. 

He settled for whimpering through his nose, a response that both Eren and Marco seemed to enjoy. 

“You ready, baby?” Eren asked, though he didn't really wait for a response before moving. He slid one finger into Jean's entrance, burying it slowly to the first knuckle as Jean's body quivered outside of his control. Eren worked him open slowly, or as slowly as he could, with Marco rolling his hips against Jean's face in rhythm. When Jean began rocking back onto Eren's finger searching for more of a stretch, Eren gave it to him with a second finger, and finally a third. By the time we was taking all three easily, Marco's movements had grown erratic as he bucked into Jean's mouth, messily fucking his face. He pulled out, taking deep gulps of air to steady himself. 

They weren't even close to finished with Jean yet, and the thought raised yet more chills down his spine.

“My turn,” Eren piped up, giving his fingers one last torturously slow twist inside of Jean before pulling them out. He rubbed circles around Jean's slicked entrance with his thumb as he waited for Marco to put on a condom, kissing down Jean's back in the meantime. “You ready to suck my dick, baby? Ready to swallow my come?” 

Jean nodded, half brainless already and scarcely able to imagine taking more than he already had, especially from both ends at once. He knew he would be an absolute  _ disaster _ by the time they were finished with him, already dripping with sweat and spit and his own pooling precome, and covered in bite marks and bruises. And he knew he'd love every fucking second of it. 

As Eren traded Marco places and knelt in front of him, Jean opened his mouth obediently, panting Eren's name like a plea. Eren gave him his cock without pretense, having more than had his fill of teasing for the night. Jean hummed around him, almost forgetting there was more to come. 

But Marco didn't let him lose sight of it for long. 

“You two are terrible, you know that?” He asked, both hands coming to rest sharply on Jean's ass as he sidled up behind him. Lining his cock up with Jean's loosened entrance, he pressed forward, taunting him with the tip, alone. “You wait until I'm swimming in work and drowning in deadlines to parade your cute little asses around in nothing but my sweaters. It's immoral.”

“Mhm,” Eren hummed, deep and slow as he rocked his hips forward, more and more of his length sliding into Jean's abused mouth. “I'm sure you'd much rather be grading papers than fucking Jean's pretty little ass right now, right?” 

“It's not about what I'd  _ rather _ be doing,” Marco groused, even as he began sinking into Jean, splitting him open one searing inch at a time. Jean moaned through his nose at the dull burn of being stretched, drool slicking Eren's cock in his mouth. Marco ground fingers into Jean's hips, holding him in place. “It's you two always getting your way, even when there are things I need to be doing.”

For a moment, Jean felt a twinge of guilt, having distracted Marco so intentionally. If his mouth weren't busy, he might have argued that it was Eren's fault, Eren's idea, but he didn't really need to. Glancing up, he could see the satisfied look on Eren's face, and realized Marco's grumbling wasn't genuine; it was all part of the game. And even as smug as Eren looked then, if anyone was the winner, it was definitely Jean. 

He swayed his hips, rocking in slow circles as his body adjusted and he took Marco to the hilt. Marco leaned forward, looming over him, groaning brokenly into his ear. 

“You keep that up and I'm not gonna last long, you little troublemaker.” 

With very transparent intentions, Jean repeated the motion, letting his back arch along with the swirl of his hips. Marco rocked into him, slowly once and then again, and then he found a rhythm that steadily picked up its pace along with their shared pulse. Moaning around Eren's cock, Jean let his eyes flutter almost entirely closed, losing himself to the moment. 

Taking both of his boys at once was one of Jean's favorite things about sex as a threesome. Eyes rolling back behind heavy eyelids, he relaxed his jaw as much as he could, occasionally choked by the mouthful that Eren was relentlessly giving him. Eren wasn't as large as Marco, but he wasn't as careful of his movements, either. Jean's eyes welled with tears as Eren hit the back of his throat, and he whined through his nose as Marco took hold of his hips and  _ slammed _ against his prostate, taking repeated aim once he'd found his target and nailing Jean’s sweet spot over and over like both of their lives depended on it. Already every bit the mess they'd wanted to make of him, Jean was already on the verge of falling apart, even as Eren and Marco held fast to him. 

“Jean you look so good taking all that cock. You love being full of dick, don't you? So good for us, such a beautiful boy, so fucking  _ pretty.”  _ Scrambling for purchase as he pounded into Jean, Marco’s fingers twisted in the loose fabric of the oversized sweater. Jean was barely cognizant of the sweater tearing as he did so, small holes giving way to larger ones as the sweat soaked shirt hung heavy on his frame. It swayed along with the rest of him as Jean neared his limit, the sensation of being filled from both ends quickly becoming too much. He fisted the bed sheets in his hands as his arms shook under his weight, close to giving out. Huffing through his nose, Jean tried to warn his partners, but they were both too far gone. 

“Jean,  _ Jean baby,  _ I'm gonna - I'm coming, baby, here it comes!” Eren stammered a nonsensical warning just before he went rigid, his cock buried deep down Jean's throat as he spilled hot and thick. It was enough to fill Jean's mouth with the taste of it, enough to drip from his lips as he licked up and down Eren's length, desperate to catch every drop as he bobbed his head. His neck and his jaw and his back ached, and Jean figured he deserved all of what Eren had to give, as he slumped against Jean and braced himself on the headboard of the bed, chanting Jean's name and babbling sloppy commands. “Fuck yes, baby, take it, it's all for you, swallow all of it, lick it up baby,  _ fuck…” _ Some of the slippery mix of come, sweat and saliva dripped onto the gaudy sweater Eren was still wearing, and Jean dove after it as well, moaning as he went. 

Clearly it was all too much for Marco. He hissed sharply, landing a stinging smack against Jean's ass as a form of warning, a broken string of curses and attempts at both of his boyfriends’ names the only words he could manage. He pulled Jean up onto his knees,  _ railing _ into him as he reached around to messily pump Jean's aching, neglected cock in time with his thrusts. Jean's orgasm hit him hard and fast, with even less forewarning than Marco's, as their bodies tensed at nearly the same moment, and Marco held him hard in place as he emptied inside of him. 

_ “God, _ yes Jean, so fucking  _ good,  _ sweeth- _ hahhh _ -heart, sh-shit…”

Jean's heart hammered in his chest, thundered below bone and skin and a layer of soaked, stupid looking sweater. Marco kept a tight hold on him, both of them shaking as they finished. Blinded by the perfect feeling of being sandwiched between Marco behind him and Eren coming to kneel in front of him again, Jean let his head fall back against Marco's shoulder, let Eren clasp hands over his shaking shoulders, and let himself be held. In that moment, he didn't worry about coming between the two of them, only about  _ being _ between them, right where he belonged. 

As both of his boyfriends peppered him and each other with mindless, exhausted kisses, Jean breathed deep the feeling, and let himself be held in it, as long as his lovers saw fit. 

\--

With the heavy haze of post-sex bliss still hanging in the air above them, Marco, Eren and Jean quickly returned to their senses and selves, eventually becoming a single, snuggly pile of arms, legs and slowing heartbeats, once everyone had cleaned up enough to get comfy. Sighing deeply, Marco made room for both Eren and Jean to burrow beneath his arms, and they all went still and silent for a while, save for the occasional contented hum. Most of those came from Marco. The way he looked at Jean when he finally cracked an eye open again, one might have thought Jean were splayed out across the bed like an artful nude painting, glowing with heavenly light. Instead, he was curled hard against Marco’s side, his thoroughly mussed hair sticking to his sweaty face and neck, still clad in an awful, oversized pumpkin sweater that hung off of one bite-bruised shoulder. 

It was obvious though that to Marco, he was as beautiful that way as he'd ever been in his life. 

“You look nice.” Marco mumbled, sleepy but sound of mind. Jean twisted his mouth to one side in protest, mostly to stave off the embarrassingly large grin that might have otherwise split his face.

“Mm, I'm sure. If the hair wasn't bad enough, I've got this monstrosity.” He tugged at the sweater, pouting. From beneath the blanket, a lump that sharply resembled Eren mumbled its contribution.

“Clearly does it for Marco, though.” 

Marco laughed, pulling Eren from his hiding place beneath the blanket and kissing the top of his head, finally letting him burrow beneath his arm again after a moment of puppylike protest. Running fingers lazily through Jean’s hair as he hugged Eren to his side, Marco smiled, looking them both over. “Thank you boys for the distraction. That was quite the treat. Although honestly, I'm personally offended that neither of you chose the scarecrow sweater.”

“I  _ tried _ to get Jean into that one.” Eren said sleepily. Jean huffed, still disgusted at the  _ thought.  _

“The  _ eye _ was falling off.”

Face buried against Marco's side, Eren sputtered with laughter. “Because  _ that _ was the deciding factor for you, right?”

“You two are a menace.” Marco chuckled, pulling them both closer to him. Jean laughed through his nose, laying his chin on Marco’s chest to look up at him fondly. 

“Thank god we have you around to keep us in line then, yeah?” 

Nodding, Marco pressed a kiss to Jean’s forehead, as well as Eren's. “Thank god, indeed.”

A little while later, Jean rose to head for the kitchen, retrieving a glass of water large enough to share, if his boyfriends wanted any. The glass was one of a matching set Marco had purchased the week Jean had moved in, the first of many sets - of three. Jean loved it for that very reason. 

“Dinner ideas?” He asked, poking his head back into the bedroom. Marco hadn't moved, save for turning on the television, its soft, blue glow lighting his face beautifully as he looked up to answer Jean. 

“I was just gonna order something. I think I've got coupons for pizza. Eren honey, what do y--”

Marco stopped short, seeing Eren curled against him, dead to the world and snoring softly. Across the room, Jean laughed under his breath. 

“I think he’s already gotten what  _ he _ wants this evening.”

“I'll wake him when the food’s here.” Marco smiled. Looking Jean up and down adoringly for a long moment, he sighed, patting the empty space on the bed beside him where Jean had been moments before. When Jean sat down, Marco leaned toward him as much as he could with Eren still heavy on his other arm, and kissed him, soft and sweet. Then he asked, as he seemed to do often with both Eren and Jean, “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” Jean said simply, and he truly meant it. “Better than ever.” 


End file.
